Dance Me To The End Of Love
by lontanissima
Summary: The urge for a dance.


**Happy Birthday CassidyABlue and anonymouspebble!**

_This little story was inspired by my biggest music's lover Leonard Cohen, his lyrics are written among the lines, and if you have a change, please, listen to his "Dance Me To The End Of Love" and get a taste of his art._

**Kate04us **_thank you for all the help, I know this story had driven you to drinking, so I guess your next bottle of wine is on me! _

_and thanks to my beta_ **OldFashinedGrl** _for her wonderful job. All mistakes are mine alone, not the characters. With those I only play._

_The amazing cover is made by_ **anonymouspebble**_, I'm very grateful dear. _

_Enjoy!_

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><p>The air was cool inside the small but inviting bar, leaving the hot windy November night outside the walls of The Franklin. The dim lights created a soothing lounge-like mood. The place had a pleasant hum of activity, not too loud, not too quiet. The patrons were talking, laughing among themselves. Some of them were even dancing, enjoying the late evening and a cocktail. The merry atmosphere was contagious, descending on the Major Crimes team who had decided to unwind on the soft couches in a wide booth. They had chosen, or rather Provenza had decided, that they would be sitting at the last table, far away from the dance floor, because in his words <em>no one wants to see that<em>.

The celebration after another solved case was a given. This time Sharon decided to indulge her team and join them for the occasion. It was Amy's turn to pick the place for the evening of casual drinks and camaraderie, and whenever that happened, the chance that the Captain would tag along with the team increased exponentially. The young woman's choices were quite similar to Sharon's, elegant but not too classy although this one was a little too crowded for her liking, apparently in vogue. Obviously her suggestions were much better than anything Provenza or Julio would propose.

The team had a pattern. First round was paid for by whoever won a bet during the case or was the first to figure out the murderer. The second round was on the slowest drinker at the table. Usually that was Flynn's cue. Andy didn't really care for drinking his cranberry and soda in a fast manner. He liked to enjoy it, the bitter-sweet taste on his tongue, the cold glass between his fingers and the refreshing liquid that slid down his throat with pleasure. Also, it annoyed the shit out of Provenza, and that Andy could never pass up.

It was a truly delightful night. The conversation was light, the music not too loud and yet the soft tunes were penetrating Sharon's unconscious and she caught herself humming along to them more than once. Andy must have noticed it. Every time that happened she could feel his chest vibrate with a small chuckle. He was sitting close to her in the booth, very close, brushing her with his shoulder each time he picked his drink up. At some point, he extended his arm along the back rest, getting very comfortable in his seat and somehow, without even noticing, she found herself leaning into his side even more.

She smiled more tonight, felt very relaxed and marveled mostly at the team's ability to slip into the ease that they had mastered after all the years of working together. Now she was part of it too. They welcomed her in and let her settle among them at her own pace. It was awkward at first, Provenza made sure it would be for everyone, but with time the old man grew tired of destroying the mood and just let it be.

When the hour got late and another round of drinks had been finished, it was Sharon's cue to order for them and then leave. It was a pattern she established herself. She would relax, joke with the team, and stay as long as it wasn't Rusty's bed time. She liked to tell him goodnight before he turned in for the evening and the boy would usually stay up, waiting, till she got home. It was a tacit accord between them though it wasn't always possible to make it happened. Some days could end in unexpected ways, in that event, a shared text sufficed, but tonight she wanted to wish her son goodnight in person.

Sharon excused herself and went to the bar, knowing Andy would follow her, no matter how many times she said she could do it alone; not that she really minded the company. He would not listento her anyway. It was the only moment for them to be alone and together; before they would get interrupted by arriving drinks, before she would say her goodbyes. Andy wanted his own goodnight with her.

As they walked through the crowd, his hand landed on the small of her back. Her pace slowed and their bodies collided. Their warmth mingled and his fingers began to caress the soft fabric of her purple dress. He guided her towards the destination, increasing the pressure in his touch at her waist. She placed the order and seemed distracted, far away from him, maybe lost in the music, maybe watching Sykes and Cooper swaying on the small dance floor, maybe lost in the moment. Regardless, he didn't like it. He wanted attention, some recognition. It was their goodnight.

"_Dance with me_." Andy wasn't asking. The words were delivered as a low, husky sound. The timber of his voice so soft, immediately creating a web of intimacy between them. Sharon was trapped inside it after one simple statement.

He was serious. Brown eyes pinned her under his sure, determinate gaze. The place was crowded, and she was glad. She was very glad for that. No one would suspect that the sudden flush she felt was due to his words, which were unexpectedly stealing her breath. No one would know that in her throat there was now a knot and her voice was hiding behind it. She could blame it on the crush of people that were surrounding them, her inability to react making her flustered. The only thing that she could do was give him an uncertain smile.

It wouldn't be the first time she found herself secured in his arms. It wouldn't be the first time she let him guide her on the dance floor. However, this time he didn't ask her because of customary pleasantries expected at wedding receptions. This time, she knew, reading it easily in his expression, he wanted to feel her body against his and he couldn't care less if it was right in front of everyone.

She should have cared that there were so many eyes fixed on them. She should have been concerned that she was feeling so drawn to him, like two powerful magnets pulled together, keeping them inseparable. It was getting impossible for her to fight this invisible force. She should have politely declined and promised him in a whispered breath to his ear _let's do it next time_, when they would be out for a dinner, just the two of them. Maybe they could even come back here in few days. Instead, her smile brightened as her body turned towards his, breaching the apparent gap that was between them, giving him her full attention.

Before any movements were made, they locked eyes, searching for answers and finding readiness. Her emerald depths were sparkling with excitement, seeking confirmation in his darkening steady gaze. In a fraction of a second of silent communication they both decided.

They would dance.

Sharon got the bartender to notice her and asked for the drinks to be delivered to their table. Shyly she touched Andy's hand as it lay on the wooden surface of the bar. He watched her sliding her fingertips along his long fingers over the back of his hand. When she reached his wrist, she took hold of it and tugged him with her. This time it would be her that led the way towards the floor, finding a spot where they could hide from prying eyes. He was glad to follow her wherever she would choose.

He saw and felt her beauty while the music sounded as a burning violin.

They stood in front of each other, she parted her lips slightly but before any sound could escape her mouth he gathered her safely in his embrace, soothing away any hesitation she might still feel.

Her arm rested on his shoulder while he brought her closer to his chest, enveloping her by the small of her waist. The fingers of their joined hands laced together, palms touching, connecting.

And they moved.

Step after step was followed by sway after sway as they danced in perfect sync. He held her very tenderly. It was different from the last time she was in his arms, now it felt more natural, more vital. As they danced for what felt like so very long.

He looked into her eyes, wishing all the witnesses were gone. He longed to feel her moving like they did in Babylon, exposing her inner beauty, free from all restraints, bared from underneath the mask of cold remoteness she once wore. He could see beneath her armor now, she was starting to let him in. She showed him slowly what he only knew the limits of, where right in that moment was the friendship they spoke of? With her temple resting against his jaw, her eyes closed. She let herself get lost in him and in the motion of their bodies.

Time and space was reduced to the sound a few gentle notes and his calming breaths. Her heart skipped a few beats as his scent invaded her senses. Their hands began slowly wandering along each other's bodies, mimicking the unhurried movements of their feet.

He touched the naked skin between her shoulder blades, memorizing the softness of her flesh. She slid her hand beneath his jacket. His shirt felt like a glove against her skin. And they danced on and on.

There was something hidden in his sudden need to dance. There was something obvious in her acceptance of it, something they weren't ready to admit or deny. Yet it burned, it burned keenly through their bodies and souls leaving them in a limbo of reluctance.

They were both beneath that love, they were both above it all.

They could dance like this till the end of love. Their unspoken love.

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><p><em>Thank you!<em>


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